A Thousand Years
by peyton123
Summary: A continuation of The Reichenbach Fall, Molly is Hiding Sherlock from the public until he can figure out what he is to do. They soon find out that they need each other in ways they hadn't known before.


_~CHAPTER ONE~_

"SHERLOCK!" John screamed. It disturbed her in the most awful way, knowing what lied ahead. Knowing she was going to have to go to his funeral and be there for John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. Oh god Mrs. Hudson, the sweetest women she had ever met, she loved Sherlock in a way others didn't, she loved and cared for him in such a motherly way. This was going to ruin her. Molly couldn't bear the thought. Her thoughts consumed her so much she had hardly noticed that she had poured the blood on Sherlock's head, injected him with the serum that would soften his heartbeat to a point of non-detection, removed the padding he had to land onto, and then slowly slipped into the crowd of spectators. Sherlock had hired a bicyclist to hit John hopefully (if his calculations were correct, which they always were) he would hit his head on the concrete and be disoriented and not be able to get to Sherlock or get a good check of his pulse. As Molly slipped out of the crowd she quickly made her way to the morgue.

Once she was there she had a few brief moments to gather her thoughts in the morgue where she had spent so much time with Sherlock and John. Was now the place where she was to examine Sherlock's body.

But in reality when he arrived, she simply opened the bag and waited for him to come to. She let her mind wonder into romantic, and rather school girl type thoughts, how when he came to he would pick her up and hug her in a most handsome way and give a celebratory kiss and they would blissfully make their way back to her flat.

Just then in the middle of her day dream Sherlock came to. "H-hi!" she blurted out. "Yes hello Miss Hooper, we should head back to your flat now, where's my coat?"

"Oh it's um r-right over here" She pointed to the bag that had come with his coat, scarf, and his socks and shoes.

"Right, well then we should be on our way."

"Yes um okay just-"He cut her off.

"Molly, I am _truly_ grateful for what you have done for me today" then once again he told her what had sent shivers down her spine the night before. "You _do _count"

The eye contact they were sharing was different than their eye contact had been before, it seemed very genuine from both parties. After a few interesting staring moments they slipped out the back and walked through back allies to arrive at her flat.

The walk back to her flat was a rather odd one. She tried to let Sherlock know that she had rules (but to be quite honest she would probably let him get away with anything) in her, well their flat, rules for the very unruly consulting detective.

"Um I would really like you to not involve my cat in any of your, um experiments, I also would like you to help around the house, of course I will be doing all the shopping. I'll need a list of your sizes, foods you like and things like soap, shamp-"He cut her off.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a list of measurements, sizes, foods he liked disliked, shoppes and markets he wanted them from, and the specific cashier he would and wouldn't accept to handle his things.

"That should be all you need" He handed it to her.

"Wow you were very thorough"

"Yes well-"It was her cutting him off for a change.

"Here we are, um go on up" She said nervously.

They walked up the stairs to her flat and went in. "This is nice" He said trying not to be rude.

Although Molly had a fair paying job it didn't allow her to really have nice things, her living room furniture was all nice but it was an old apartment. Molly's favorite feature was a small terrace, it didn't over look much but it still had a brilliant view of the night sky. Honestly Molly couldn't figure out what Sherlock didn't like about it…

"Um the spare bedroom is just down the hall it has a bed and dresser"

"Hmmm" he stated, she guessed he was deducing her living space to see how long ago a man had been there and how long it had been since she dusted and things of that odd nature.

Just then a long haired cat made his way into the room. The cat noticed Sherlock and walked slowly around him and rubbing against his legs.

"Oh Sherlock this is my cat Scarlett, oh god! You're not allergic are you?"

"No, no I'm not; never much cared for the feline race though…"

"Oh um s-sorry" Molly was still stuck on the fact that the great Sherlock Holmes was standing in her living room. Something she had been fantasizing about for a very long time.

"Well how about we order some take away?" She asked trying desperately to start a conversation.

"Yes that sounds fine, um how about I order and you go take a shower or something"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's the least I can do" he said while still maintaining his beautiful posture.

"Wow, um thanks"

"Mhhm"

Sherlock was concerned, about Molly; he knew that this was very difficult on her. He felt himself caring a little bit more. He brushed off those "feelings" and told himself that it had just been a long stressful and that he needed sleep, and that he wouldn't look twice at her the next day. So he ordered what he knew she liked the most by the state of the menus, a Chinese place just down the streets menu was used the most, and it had a red circle around the chicken and shrimp lo mein, he looked over the menu and picked something without thinking about it. Just before he put the menu down he saw another red circle that said "Jims favorite" with a heart over the I, it made Sherlock angry to think how Moriarty had just used her like that. He calmed himself once more.

Once the food arrived they sat sort of across from each other on the couch, with the telly on. Molly was flipping through the channels when she came to the news she tried to change it before Sherlock noticed.

"Leave it" he insisted

"_In more shocking news the great fake? Sherlock Holmes took his own life this morning by jumping off the roof of St. Bards hospital; experts are saying that there was no reason for him to jump Experts are also saying that he managed to bring down actor Rich Brook as well, his body was found on the roof top of St. Bard's hospital approximately an hour after Sherlock jumped. Brooks shot himself in the head. Sherlock Holmes hired him to play role of Jim question now is why a man would be so determined to make people believe he was a brilliant masterminding detective. Was he a psychopath, sociopath, or just hungry for attention? Now with the weather here's Samuel Hawkins."_

The telly faded into the background as Molly lowered the volume.

"Sherlock I am so sorry you had to hear that, trust me, no one that truly knew you will ever believe that, not for one second you hear me."  
Molly felt strong in this moment; she was talking to him without feeling nervous.

There it was again that stare that they had only shared once before. But this time it was stronger.

"Thank you Molly for everything, again." And then to Molly's surprise he leaned in and gave her a kiss, not on the cheek or forehead but on her lips, a gentile warm snogg right to the lips. Molly was in an almost state of panic her head was spinning, she couldn't believe it.

"You're v-very welcome" she managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot. "Well I'm done with my food what about you?" She asked trying to take her mind off of the kiss he just sealed on her lips.

"Yes I am, I'll help you cleanup" He said also trying to take his mind off of the kiss.

After they were finished throwing trash away and picking up there mess they decided it was time to get some rest.

"Well I'll just be off then" They said at the same time sharing an awkward laugh.

When Sherlock reached his room he shut the door, and began deducing this situation. He felt towards her what he had felt towards Irene Adler, but that had faded soon after their last meeting when he saved her from being executed. But even then it wasn't as strong as what he was feeling now. Had he always felt this way towards Molly? Just then he realized that ever since he knew her he had felt obligated to protect her, even if he did it in a rude manor. But he assured himself it wasn't love, it couldn't be. It was simply gratitude, yes that's what it was gratitude, and after a good night's rest he would forget about those feelings. But the something came over Sherlock, assort of different impulse than he was used to. He stormed out of his room to Molly's.

"Molly I was thinking that since we don't know how many of Moriarty's men are still out there, I think it best if I slept with you for a while, to protect you and myself."

"Yes well, yes that's fine with me." She was so embarrassed by her enthusiasm to crawl into bed with Sherlock Holmes, she could have died.

"Alright then, goodnight Molly Hooper." He said while crawling into her bed.

"Goodnight Sherlock Holmes." There was no response.

_~CHAPTER TWO~_

Molly woke up the next morning feeling more rested that she had in years, she felt relaxed and so calm. Normally when she woke up she was frantic and anxious. Just then she noticed an arm around her figure and her head resting on what felt like a chest. Good god she was snuggling with him, she was snuggling with Sherlock Holmes! They were intertwined in the way you see newlyweds in movies. Molly could not believe what was happening to her. First he makes her feel like she actually matters, then he kisses her, now their snuggling. Things were becoming quite domestic between Sherlock and Molly. She flinched a bit to stretch and it woke him.

"Morning Molly." He said barely awake, eyes squinted and stretching while rubbing his fingers through his thick black locks.

"Morning, sorry I haven't really got time to make breakfast um…" The phone rang just as she awkwardly finished her statement. She answered in a panic she was already waking up thirty minutes late. She thought it be her boss, wondering where she was.

"Hello"

"Hi is this Molly?" The voice sounded worried.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Mrs. Hudson, from Baker Street."

"Oh yes, hello Mrs. Hudson. Is everything alright?" knowing that was a poor choice of words since obviously everything was in fact not alright.

"Not really dear, John didn't make it home last night; I'm terribly worried about him. Oh god Sherlock!" She started crying; well it was more like sobbing.

"What can I do?"

"I was wondering if you'd go out and look for him, I can't because my damn hip is acting up, I can barely stand up. Normally Sherlock would help me when this happened." She said all while still crying.

"Yes, yes of course I will, I'll find him and have him back soon." The phone cut off.

Sherlock heard the whole conversation; he was scared for John, and Mrs. Hudson. He missed them so much already.

"Sherlock I have to go right now, Johns gone missing!"

"Don't go it could a trap, set up by one of his men."

"I have to! And it can't be a tap there's no way."

"Please Molly, don't." he said now with his arms grasping her arms and looking her dead in the eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to."

"Please just be careful, don't talk to anyone, and don't look at anyone. Just find him and get him back to Mrs. Hudson. Do you understand?"

"Yes I will be on my best behavior" she said trying to lighten the situation up a bit.

"This is no tie for jokes, now go!"

She went to walk away, but Sherlock kept his hold on her and kissed her forehead softly and stroked her cheek.

"Please be careful." He said in a very agonized tone.

"I will, I promise."

~_CHAPTER THREE~ _


End file.
